


Knick-Knacks

by captainangua



Series: DeanCas oneshots [6]
Category: Pixar - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disney, Fish, Fluff, Gen, Inanimate Objects, Lonely Castiel, Lonely Dean, M/M, Merman Dean, POV Castiel, Pixar, Unrelated Winchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:22:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainangua/pseuds/captainangua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But he knew what he wanted: he wanted not to be alone anymore, he wanted to be free to do more than watch, even if he risked the chance of falling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knick-Knacks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoralQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralQueen/gifts).



> In this very very belated response to Evangeline74's adorable suggestion that the Pixar short 'Knick-knack' could make for a very cute destiel story if done well, I did the the thing, but cannot promise that the thing was done well. But it was fun getting to write Cas as a snowman trapped in a snowglobe.
> 
> Don't ask me why he knows what a merman is. This story does not concern itself with ~details~

It looked beautiful out there, Castiel thought, again, as he stared at the posing figures outside his prison. They were all bathed in that loving glow from the artificial light high above, which they stood directly below.

He couldn’t even remember why he was sure he had a name and what it was, but he thought he could remember his imprisonment, being encased in liquid to always be at the ready to be turned at any moment, without warning, so that the white flakes at his feet would again float from the sky of his clear-walled cage.

The figures out _there_ didn’t have cages. Just like him, they were all lonely trinkets acquired from somewhere far away, stripped, undoubtedly, from their thousands of identical siblings, but unlike Castiel, they were free to sit in each other’s company. To talk to one another. To speak their own names aloud.

Castiel heard them call to each other by name, sometimes, and he savoured the knowledge each time, repeating the sounds over in his mind in the hope of one day being able to make use of them.

Hannah, Balthazar, Uriel, Anna, Rachel, Raphael, Michael. Such lovely names for such lovely figures, all much taller them, posed in positions which made them appear both cheerful and powerful.

Castiel caught glimpses of himself in the walls of his glass prison sometimes, and he knew that nothing about him could ever be referred to as beautiful, or powerful. He had instead been made small, and round, and white.

But he knew what he wanted: he wanted not to be alone anymore, he wanted to be free to do more than watch, even if he risked the chance of falling. He had seen a figure fall from the shelf once. Lucifer, he’d heard the others call him. Castiel had not been able to see what had happened for himself, but he had heard the others talk about it in tones that were hushed and fevered. Some even mentioned that The Bin may have been his eventual fate.

Castiel did not want to end up in The Bin. But he couldn’t let himself continue on like this either.

Every night, he began trying to make a dent in his prison walls. Sometimes the figures would notice, and would laugh at him. Worse, sometimes they would look on at him in pity, and Cas tried very hard not to hear what they spoke about on _those_ nights.

After weeks of his attempts, Castiel realised that all he had managed to do was to _move_ his prison towards the edge of the shelf. Perched for a fall just like Lucifer’s.

Lucifer had broken, they’d said. But if Cas were to fall, surely it would be his prison, and not he himself that would shatter on the ground - would it be worth the risk?

Castiel looked back behind him at the figures. They were all laughing again, at some joke that Uriel had been telling, by the look of it. Castiel had heard a few of Uriel’s jokes, but had never been able to make sense of them. Perhaps, if he was free, he would understand. Perhaps, if he was free, he’d be able to make jokes of his own.

With that thought fuelling his efforts, Castiel pushed, like he never had before. It took so much work he wondered if it was going to break him apart, but then –

Then he was flying.

The snow at his feet was all around him now as he spun through the air…

  * And he was hitting the bottom with a splash.



A splash?

Castiel once more was positioned upright, and felt stable, and though the outside looked different, he was still trapped inside his same cell.

He wanted to cry again. Trying to stop himself from doing just that, he clenched his eyes tightly shut and wished himself away, so he only heard instead of saw the figure tapping against his enclosure.

Slowly, Castiel opened his eyes and looked into a pair of the most beautiful painted green eyes Castiel had ever seen that stared back at him with some amusement.

“Hey, where’d you drop in from, Buddy?”

_Buddy._

Castiel blinked. Words. They were being directed _at him_. Directed at him from the impressive little plastic statue of a merman – an impressive figure expecting some kind of answer from Castiel. Unable to know what to do with this long-awaited opportunity to use his voice, Castiel pointed a stick arm up at the world above.

“You fell from all the way up _there?_ We didn’t think there was _anything_ up there,” the Merman said, screwing up his face in confusion. Then he smiled, and the effect was dazzling. “Well, you’re here now, I guess. Which, man, I gotta tell you is really pretty cool… yeah… The name’s Dean, you got one?”

Castiel tried to open his mouth, but found himself panicking. What if the words sounded fine inside his head but not aloud? What if Dean hated him for it, or pitied him, or laughed at him for it just as the others had above?

For now, Dean was only frowning at him.

“Leave him alone, Dean. You’d be pretty dazed too if you’d just made a drop like that.”

Dean snorted and looked up at the source of the voice. “Are you kidding, I’d do a flip.”

The source of the voice was _moving_ somewhere above Castiel’s head… And moving because it wasn’t just a figure – it was _alive._

Out of terror for something he’d never even _heard_ about before, Castiel stiffened, and Dean noticed his reaction. “Oh, don’t look like that. Sammy’s harmless.”

“Screw you. My genetic cousins are sharks.”

“Yeah, he wishes,” Dean said, turning back to Castiel that instead of laughing at him seemed to be inviting him to laugh _with_ him – to share in the joke. And something else in Dean’s eye made Castiel wonder how long the other figure had been waiting for another person to make jokes for, just like Castiel had been.

“My name is Castiel,” he offered, and waved tentatively.

Dean waved back, a slight blush creeping over his plastic features. The fish named Sammy swum past him, giving Castiel a beady-eyed onceover. “Oh he’s cute, Dean, you should try and make sure this one sticks around.”

“Shut your scaly big mouth, Sam!”

Castiel tried for a smile to give them both. “I’m sorry, but I think you might be, uh, having to ‘stick’ with me. I don’t think I could get out of here if I tried.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “I used to try. It got pretty lonely down here sometimes.”

“Hey!”

Dean glared up at the fish above them. “You know what I mean. You had other fish friends back then. I just wanted to see what the outside was like.” He narrowed his eyes at Castiel. “What _is_ it like up there?”

Castiel thought for a moment. “Pretty lonely,” he answered honestly, as he felt a warmth build in his chest at the thought that he might not ever have to feel that way again.

He didn’t. He felt annoyed at Dean and Sam on occasion, mostly because of the ridiculous issues they managed to find to fight over, but those mostly went away when a new fish joined them. Her scales were darker than Sam’s, and they called her Amelia.

“Oh, he’s got it bad,” Dean muttered with a smile one night as they watched Sam tentatively follow the other fish around the edge of the bowl.

Cas scrunched his face up. “What has he got bad? Is he sick?”

Dean’s face went quickly red with embarrassment as he waved an arm dismissively. “Y’know. I mean you _know_ , right? Like, the way he keeps looking at her…”

Castiel allowed himself a small smile. Sometimes he felt glad for the small bowl which forced them too closely together to fear that Dean might be able to avoid him, and the smaller cage that was only his, which helped him feel a little braver.

“Like the way you look at me sometimes?”

Dean froze.

“I look at you like that too, y’know,” Cas added with a shy smile. “But I thought you knew that.”

“I wish your plan had worked, and your cage had broken,” Dean said hoarsely, still looking at his feet. “I could get to kiss you then.”

“The plan more than worked,” Cas told him, putting a hand up against his glass towards Dean. “I have you now.”

*

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping to get up next chapter of the Wolves AU by tomorrow night - slowwwwwwly working my way down to the long backlog of the writing to-do list... If anyone wants to add to said list give me a shout, I loved getting to write this wee short because it's exactly the sort of thing I hadn't thought of and it gave me a chance to watch that short again. A few times.


End file.
